Blind Love
by sierra.steinbrecher
Summary: A man of unspeakable ugliness. A beauty without sight. A city of wonder and the man who intends to destroy it. I do not own the movie, and this is entirely historically inaccurate.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

If not for this story, these years would have been the happiest in France's history. The people were well taken care of by the royal family, and the country was at peace. The future of the throne was secure, for the king and queen had a son to inherit the throne and four beautiful daughters to select suitors for. And the people loved them. Palace happenings were a hot topic for gossip, so news traveled fast. When the news got out about the queen's fifth pregnancy, the news covered the entire city of Paris within a week, the entire country in two. This began nine months of happy anticipation for the people of France as they awaited the new arrival with baited breath.

But in the palace, the atmosphere was quite different. As the pregnancy progressed, the queen's condition grew worse and worse, until the royal physician wouldn't even let the queen out of bed. She protested at this. "I see no reason why I shouldn't be out and about. I'm perfectly fine." But her looks belied her words. Her wavy gold tresses were losing their healthy bounce, and her cheekbones were growing more prominent with each week that passed. Every time the king looked at her, it hurt. _What is happening to you my love? What will this child cost? Your life? _Such thoughts tormented him long into the evening.

On one such night, when the king had been plagued by worry into the wee hours, he walked to his wife's bedchamber and stood in the doorway. "Can't sleep?" She said from under the bedclothes. "Come here."

The king walked to the bed and sat beside her swollen belly. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Blast his voice, why did it have to shake so?

But she smiled at the quiver in his voice. "No, the baby did. It keeps kicking me." She tried to pull herself up into a sitting position, but the king put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. "You've been so busy worrying that I never got to ask you, which would you like? A boy or a girl?" She took his hand and pressed it to her womb, where he could feel the baby kicking.

"I think I'd like a girl. I hope she has your eyes." And he laid her back down and walked out of the room.

The next day, the queen went into labor. All royal events and duties were suspended for the day as nurses and physicians ran through the palace. The prince and his four sisters were shooed out of the queen's rooms and into their own, and the king closeted himself in the library. How many times had they sat together here, reading the latest dispatches and greeting ambassadors?

The hours dragged on. Screams and groans permeated the palace walls and resounded in the corridors and courtyards. Only after fifteen hours of labor did the king hear the news. He had gotten his wish, but at a great price. France had gained a princess, but had lost a queen.

Johan the brick maker sat at the table by the fireplace in the Broken Mug, a tavern in the more developed areas of Paris. The conversation flew around him.

"I just don't understand it." said the landlady as she brought them their ale. "The princess is nigh two months old, and we still haven't heard tell of a royal christening. What the king must be thinking, I don't know. All the other children were baptized before a month had gone by."

Fredrick the stable hand chimed in. "It's not just oversight either. No one's allowed to see the princess besides a few servants of the old queen's and the royal family. Those who do wait on her are sworn to secrecy. It's very strange."

Then the speculation started. Perhaps the princess was malformed or sickly. Someone else suggested that the king hated the girl for taking away his wife. Someone else suggested that there was no baby at all, but that the whole thing was covering up a miscarriage. By the time Johan had paid for his ale and started heading home, people were saying that some sorcery had gone on to turn the princess into something horrible, as punishment for killing the queen.

This conversation wasn't limited to just one evening in a pub. It was the hottest topic in the city, maybe in all of France. Rumors were flying faster than sparks, and where they landed wildfires of speculation sprung up. Paris was aflame, and not even the palace remained untouched.

Priscilla the chamber maid was heading to the servant's quarters for supper when she spotted Luke. He was one of the lucky few who were allowed to wait on the princess. How could she pass up this chance to get the truth for her friends? It might be even better than the rumors she'd heard from them that morning. "Hello Luke." He kept walking. "Luke, slow down." He kept walking, slightly faster. "Luke!"

He gave a heavy sigh and halted. "I suppose you want to ask me about the little princess. Well you won't get a word out of me. No one else has."

But Priscilla had never been one to give up so easily. "Luke, I just want you to answer one question. Please?"

He sighed again and said "Alright. What is it?"

She ploughed forward, excited. "Is it true that she has a hunched back and deformed face?"

Luke balked. "Good Heavens! No! Where did you hear that?!"

Priscilla was startled. "Just outside the gate this morning when I came in for the day."

Luke thought for a moment._ I have to tell the king. The truth may be unpleasant but it's certainly better than letting rumors spread like this. But how do I go about it?_

As it turned out, Luke didn't need an elaborate plan. After supper when he was on his way back to the littlest princess's nursery, he found the prince's tutor standing outside the doorway.

The man was obviously frustrated about something, but it lightened somewhat when he saw Luke. "Good thing you're here. His Highness has been playing in there for far too long, and the maids won't let me so much as peak through the door. Go in and get him for me, would you? It's time for his mathematics lesson."

Luke nodded, bowed, and went through the corridor and into the nursery. There he found Crown Prince Peter sitting on the floor with the tiny princess at his feet. He was sticking his fingers into every ticklish spot he could think of, and she was curled up in a ball, trying to avoid his tickling hands.

Luke hated to interrupt them when they were clearly having such a good time, but he bowed low to the prince and said "Young master, will you please stop teasing Her Highness and go with your tutor? He's waiting outside in the hallway to take you to the library for your mathematics lesson."

But the prince just kept on tickling his sister. "Math is so boring. Can't I stay and play with her a little longer? She's so much fun to tease."

Luke nodded. "Yes sir, but I'm afraid that you will have to leave."

Peter sighed as he picked up his sister and laid her in the arms of her wet nurse. "If he wanted me, why couldn't he come in and get me?"

"Your Highness, no one is allowed to see your sister except for her family and a few servants, myself included."

Peter looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Because the king doesn't want anyone to find out about her… well, you know

The king stopped rocking. "What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, people are saying unpleasant things about the little beauty. Things like hunched backs and deformities."

The king got up, handed the baby to a nearby chambermaid, and strode out of the room. _I have to tell the people the truth. I should never have let it get this far in the first place. But how do I go about it?_

He decided that the best way would be to hold a royal christening, just as he had done with all of his other children. It would be an elaborate affair, with all the trappings that befitted royalty. Once he told his stewards and counselors, the word spread through Paris's information network faster than any of the previous rumors. The people were overjoyed that they would finally be able to meet their new princess. But the truth that would be unveiled was far more tragic than a deformed face.

The day of the christening dawned clear and sunny. Light streamed through the breathtaking stained glass windows of Notre Dame Cathedral, the location of the long awaited christening. Everything within the church gleamed, from the brass doorknobs to the stone floor. The square outside was bedecked with banners and flowers, and packed with townspeople. The aisle where the royal carriage would ride up had to be bordered by the king's guard to give the procession room to pass. Gold-plated carriages, knights on horseback, trumpeters, standard bearers, and numerous footmen accompanied the royal entourage to the cathedral.

When the king stepped out into the square followed by the new princess in her nurse's arms, the crowd cheered and surged forward. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the mysterious princess, but the king wasn't going to let them. Quickly, he and the rest of the court swept into the cathedral.

The christening proceeded without so much as a wrinkle. The princess was named Briggina, and her uncle and aunt, the duke and duchess of Bourbon, were made her godparents. Then came the moment the king had been dreading. Briggina's veil was removed so that she could be immersed in the waters of baptism, and in that instant, all who could see the child's face gasped.

She was wearing an adorable smile, with tiny curls fringing her lovely face. Instantly all rumors of deformity and ugliness vanished from the onlooker's minds. Then they looked more closely, and beheld the terrible truth. Her eyes were not a deep green like her father's or a clear and pretty blue like her mother's. They didn't have a color. Her eyes were clouded over, blind to the world.

The king waited for their gasp of horror or cry of dismay. It didn't come. Instead, a ripple started at the opposite end of the baptismal fount. He looked up to see that the acolyte standing at the bishop's side was crying. He looked around to see other faces weeping as well. It seemed as if his whole kingdom was crying out of pity for their princess.

This was almost as frightening as the shock and disappointment he had been expecting. He decided then and there to never expose his beloved daughter to such eyes. His queen had given her life for Briggina, and that gift would not be tarnished by pity's tears. So he sheltered her, never letting her outside of palace walls and steering her clear of vicious court tongues. Very few servants were allowed to attend to her, and they were ordered to treat her as normally as possible, and to never speak of her disability, inside or outside of the palace. She would never know that she was less than perfect.

But how could she not? By the time she could talk, she knew there was something wrong with her, perhaps even before then. Her very first questions were about her condition, and what the world around her was like. The servants were torn by her innocent puzzlement. The king had forbidden them to treat her differently from any of her sisters, so they could not answer her pleas for words to fill her blackness, or make accommodations for her blindness.

She didn't know the reasons behind this ban, and it gave her no end of trouble. Her pleas for help became demands and her requests, orders. Her three year old frustrations grew into a five year old unhappiness. She could see no reason why the servants couldn't help her brush her hair, or tell her the style of a gown. By the time she turned seven, the servants had had enough. Briggina was right. The king's ban had failed to keep the truth from the princess, and was only hindering her. Besides, she was either miserable or angry, and not at all the angel her father thought she was. They went to the king, and told him that, unless he let them give her the help she desperately needed, they would all resign on the spot.

The king was caught unawares by this sudden attack. He still believed that the princess was his flawless pearl, and not a living creature who understood her flaw. He began to suspect that all was not as he thought it was, and so resolved to settle the matter with his daughter, face to face. If Briggina really had caused this, he would know the moment he saw her. The following day he called Briggina into his throne room, determined to scold her most severely. But the moment she entered the room, all thoughts of scolding evaporated.

It was as if his beloved queen stood before him once again, only younger and more beautiful. Her hair had been the same burnished gold, but Briggina's was longer and wavier. She had inherited her mother's skin, cream mixed with rose petals, and just as smooth. But Briggina's eyes were hers alone, like green-tinted pearls. Those eyes were filled with child-like innocence and unblemished purity. Once he got over this angelic appearance, he began to notice other things that disturbed him greatly. He had thought she would walk elegantly, but she tripped with every step. Her arms were out in front of her, as if warding off an attack. Everything about her spoke of hesitant caution, as if she was afraid of the world around her. He knew in that instant that he had failed to shield her, and had in fact only made things worse for her. Still, he was determined to put on a brave face for his daughter.

"I'm here, Briggina." Her head whipped around to look in his direction, although he could see her eyes still searching for the source of the voice. "Come, sit down." He then wished he hadn't. She moved even more cautiously than before, and almost tripped over the chair he offered. Still, he pressed on. "Dear daughter, why have you insisted that your servants treat you like an invalid? It is not good for your health or your future. You need to learn to act as befits a princess, as normal as possible, and the servants are trying to help you."

She sighed. "Father, you say that having the servants help me when I need it will make me an invalid, but I am more of an invalid than I would be if you hadn't told the servants to treat me like a normal girl. I had to run my hands over all my dresses before I found the one I wanted. If you were to let the servants help me with getting ready in the morning, and finding my way around the castle, I would have more time to devote to acting like a princess. My sisters could teach me how to be graceful, even if I was constantly tripping over stones I couldn't see. I could learn what fork to use by feeling the shape with my fingertips. If you allowed one of the servants to read to me, I could learn so much. Please, let me be me. "

The king would have given her the help she wanted even if she hadn't asked for it. If he couldn't shield her from the truth, what use was the ban? He retracted a section of it, letting the servants help her with her daily routine and learning the layout of the castle. However, that was as far as he was willing to go. He didn't say anything about how she was to learn court etiquette, or the various subjects suitable for a member of the royal family.

This was the beginning of many long conversations Briggina had with her father about the amount of freedom she was to be given, and what allowances were to be made for her blindness. Each time, she pushed a little harder, and he gave a little more ground on the subject. At first, she wanted accurate descriptions of rooms and places she walked into, or an object if she asked about it. Then she wanted someone to read to her. Then, she requested that someone be designated to help her throughout the day, and not just with everyday tasks. She wanted this person to act as her eyes, describing anything the princess asked about. Kathryn, one of the princess's maids, was found to be both quick tongued and dependable, and so was perfect for the position of helpmeet.

Except for these conversations when Briggina sought out her father, on formal occasions, or when he requested her company, the king didn't see much of his youngest daughter. He was the king after all, and court affairs, politics, and possible marriages demanded much of his time. But her brother, Peter, and four sisters, Maria, Acacia, Ana, and Cecelia, managed to visit her often.

When Peter needed help with his tactical exercises, or ceremonial etiquette, he came to her for a solution, or for simply a listening ear so he could voice his troubles. " How will I ever amount to anything as a king if I can't get even a simple battle plan right? I'm hopeless!"

"Brother," whispered Briggina, "you are not hopeless. You will be a great king, and not because you have memorized everything your tutors want you to learn. Your sense of justice will let you rule the people fairly. Your gentleness with me proves your compassion. There is no doubt of your courage, as our sisters will attest to. Haven't you taken on foes twice your size at the tourneys, and still emerged victorious? All these lessons are doing is honing those abilities. Now let's try again."

Her sisters, from elegant Maria to darling Cecelia, were more concerned about the suitors their father had found for them. "The earl father has in mind for me has horrible breath, and all he ever talks about is hunting." Acacia complained to her sister. "If I do accept his hand, I'll probably end up racing around on a horse, trying to keep up with him and his stags." Briggina laughed at the thought. "Acacia, if he rides so fast, he must be strong. You'd have a husband who could sweep you off your feet. Isn't that worth the bad breath?"

Briggina loved the way she was able to help build up her brother when he was struggling, and provide him with a place of solace and understanding. She adored the trust that her sisters had in her. The four of them knew that they could tell Briggina anything, and she would not only make them feel better, but would never tell anyone else what they had confided in her. The five of them came to her for every trial and joy, and she always seemed to be happily waiting for them to come knocking. To them, she was the calm in the middle of the storm of royal demands.

But, she was not as happy as her sisters and brother thought her to be. She longed to know the world outside, and to talk with someone about her own trials. After so many times of giving compassion towards others, she needed some herself concerning her greatest struggle, her blindness. But because the king had forbidden talk of it, she could not find a listening ear anywhere. She prepared herself for yet another confrontation with her father.

"Father, why have you banned all discussion of my blindness? If it is to prevent me from knowing the truth of my flaw, it has failed miserably."

The king was slow to answer. "I know that you are aware of the situation, dearest. But if you are constantly reminded of your disparity, feelings of inadequacy could make you very lonely, and if they are spoken of outside of palace walls rumors will start to fly. It's best that your condition is left unmentioned."

Briggina could have laughed, but she was careful to maintain a respectful tone. "Father, there are already rumors flying through the city, and, because they are not based on fact, they are far from the truth. If this issue were to be confronted head on, there would be less left to speculation. It becomes simple fact, something to be dealt with and overcome, while something shrouded in mystery becomes a curse. Is that how you want people to think of me, a cursed princess who can't do anything for herself?"

Once again, the king was swayed by her logical and well thought out answer. He told her that he would consider her proposal. After a week of thought and discussion with his other children and court advisors, he called Briggina into the throne room that she might hear his decision. "Very well, daughter, I will allow you to speak of it openly, and retract my ban on the subject. I am proud of you, for your intellect and reasoning are even greater than your beauty."

So the servants were told the facts, and were relieved. In truth, they had wanted to speak of it with the princess, and squash the many rumors about their beloved mistress. Kathryn in particular relished the looks on people's faces when she told them the truth about Briggina.

But the princess didn't have long to celebrate her victory. When she returned to her tower chamber, she heard someone get up from the bed. "Briggina, I have news." It was Maria. "I am engaged to Crown Prince Henry, of England." Briggina squealed with delight and ran to hug her sister. Prince Henry was young, strong, kind, and intelligent. Maria had no reasons to complain, and Prince Henry had not found fault with Maria. But Maria did not rejoice with her sister. She sighed. "I don't want to leave you, or Father, or anyone else. I'm only twenty. I don't even want to get married yet, and what if we don't like each other?" Briggina laughed gently, turned to the window, and began to sing.

"So many times out there,

I hear a happy pair

of lovers walking in the night.

I feel a kind on glow around them.

It almost feels like Heaven's light.

It's true I'll never know

that warm and loving glow,

though I might wish with all my might.

Your beauty, grace, and loving kindness

Were always meant for Heaven's light.

Now suddenly the angels smile at you.

He'll give you all his heart without a fight.

I hear your wedding bells tonight.

Your future, sister, shines so bright,

I swear it must be heaven's light."


	2. Chapter 2

"What?" the king gasped, astonished. "Do you know what would happen if I let you out of the palace? A thief might rob you. A carriage might run you over. You could get trampled underfoot! Why do you think I've sheltered you all these years?"

Briggina was startled at his reaction to what she thought was a perfectly reasonable request. "I wouldn't be walking in the streets. I just want to explore the cathedral, and find a place that I can pray, without the royal chaplain examining my every word as if trying to find a heresy in the Our Father. I don't need to see to sense his distaste of me."

This struck home with the king, for he had the exact same feeling about their priest. But this time he was not to be won over so easily. It took days of discussion and debate to convince her father to release her. "All right, Briggina, you may go, but only with a veil, a carriage, and a guide." And so it was decided that Briggina was to be allowed to go out into the world and visit the cathedral. She was sixteen.

Before Briggina could set foot outside the castle, there were many preparations to be made. First, her father had to be satisfied with the guide she had chosen, Kathryn. The young girl had become the princess's constant companion and caretaker. She had grown up in the city herself, so she knew her way around. The princess was anxious that he would think Kathryn couldn't protect her, and that he would send someone else with her, but she needn't have worried. Kathryn left no doubt that she was the best candidate for looking after the princess and giving her an accurate portrayal of the world around her through vivid language. After her assessment, the king pulled Kathryn aside, and whispered to her "You have to make sure no one knows of her blindness, or her identity. If she wants descriptions when others are nearby, whisper them to her. Never let anyone know she can't see."

Then the carriage and coachmen had to be prepared. "Memorize the route," the king growled at the selected coachman. "I won't have you getting my daughter lost." The carriage was tested, given new wheels, and hitched to the most reliable team in the royal stables. A broken wheel or unpredictable horses wasn't going to put his girl in harm's way.

A month after Briggina's confrontation of her father, and when all the arrangements were made to the king's satisfaction, he allowed his daughter to depart. "I do hope she doesn't do anything foolish."

"Father, stop worrying about her. She'll be fine." He turned to find another of his daughters, Acacia, behind him. "She's smarter than you give her credit for. "

The carriage ride itself was an adventure. Briggina rode the whole way with her head thrust out of the window, taking in all the sounds and smells. Kathryn could hardly keep up with all her questions. "Where is that smell coming from?"

Kathryn glanced out the window. "We just passed the bakery. It's where the people of the city buy their bread and baguettes."

Briggina almost fell out of the window in an attempt to hear better an intriguing melody. "And what's that music? I've never heard that kind of instrument before."

Kathryn laughed, and pulled the princess back into the carriage. "It's called a tambourine, and it's favored by dancing gypsies. The one you hear is a girl named Esmeralda. She's very popular with the common people."

"Why?"

Was there no end to her mistress's questions? "She's very beautiful, in her own way, and she's an excellent dancer and singer. She has a goat that knows plenty of tricks."

Finally, the carriage pulled up in front of the church, and Kathryn guided her mistress through the vast double doors and into the sanctuary.

Notre Dame Cathedral was said to be one of the most beautiful churches in the world, and Kathryn described every feature in detail. Vividly animated by Kathryn's wonderful descriptions of the stained glass windows and glorious crucifix, the church seemed to be made of nothing but beauty and light. Kathryn led her to every inch of the church, setting her mistress's hands on statues and moldings so she could glimpse their intricacy through her sensitive fingertips.

Kathryn hurried around a corner towing Briggina, eager to reach the lovely statue of Mary, and accidentally ran right into someone. She raised her head to apologize, and found herself face-to-face with Claude Frollo, the bishop of the cathedral.

Frollo's jaw clenched with annoyance at her irreverence. He was determined to give this urchin a lecture on proper behavior in the church. "Young lady, are you aware that you are running through the house of God as if it were nothing more than a stone building? When one is in a church one should walk like..." On and on he droned, speaking about "Proper behavior" and "a reverent attitude." Finally, he finished and stalked off to another section of the church.

Briggina gave her guide a quizzical look. "Who was that? He didn't sound very friendly."

Kathryn quickly explained. "That was Bishop Frollo. He's the main priest here, and looks down on the common folk, but most especially the gypsies. He's not a very pleasant person to be around."

The clock struck nine, and the bells began to chime the hour. Briggina suddenly stood up, startled by the noise. It seemed so close. "Brigit, do they keep the bells in the cathedral?"

"Yes, in the great bell towers. There are many stories told about them, and many more about the man who rings them."

"Do you think we could go see them? I'm sure they're very beautiful. They'd have to be, to make such music."

"I'm sure the pastor wouldn't mind letting us see them. Let's go ask." The pastor was delighted at their interest in the great bells, and gave his permission eagerly. He led them to the door leading to the tower stairs, and unlocked it for them, but before the two could ascend them, he pulled Kathryn aside. "If you happen upon the bell ringer, don't surprise him. He's very easily startled."

Kathryn gave the man a confident smile. "My lady is incapable of startling anyone, but thank you for the warning." And they began the long climb.


	3. Chapter 3

Quasimodo had just finished ringing the nine o clock bells and was beginning to work on a wooden carving of the parochial vicar of the cathedral when he heard a door open. Rushing to the balcony he saw two girls. One was shorter, maybe 14 years old and clearly leading the other girl. He couldn't see the other girl's face very well, because she was wearing a veil. _I wonder why? Is she ugly like me? Or is it something else?_ But there was no time to find out. They were coming his way!

He retreated into his tower, and then realized they were heading right for him. "Are we getting close now, Kathryn? Those stairs took so long." So, Kathryn was the shorter girl's name. That other girl had a lovely voice, like the bell that tinkled when he rang it. _Never mind that. They're getting closer._ Desperate for a hiding place, he scrambled under one of the bigger bells, praying that they wouldn't find him.

They entered the bell tower, much to Quasimodo's dismay. Mercifully, they didn't seem very interested in him, only in the bells. He listened as the shorter girl described each bell, using such detail that he could have seen the bells in his mind, even if he had not known them so well already. But why did the girl named Kathryn need to describe them in such depth when the other girl could see them for herself? So puzzled was he by this mystery, he didn't even notice that the two girls were nearing his hiding place.

"I wonder what the inside of the bells look like," asked the girl with the lovely voice. Before he knew what was happening, the shorter girl was in his bell, screaming! He bolted out of the bell and ran smack into the taller girl! She, however, did not yell. "Hello. I'm sorry; I thought we were the only ones up here. Are you the bell ringer?" Astonished that she didn't flinch away from him, Quasimodo answered. "Yes, I'm the bell ringer."

Kathryn was shocked. Here was her mistress, a princess beautiful beyond all others, talking with a man whose face alone would have sent any normal girl shrieking. She watched as the bell ringer showed Briggina his carvings, the bells, and the view from the tower's top. Kathryn went with them, of course, to describe these things for her lady, but in whispers so that the bell ringer wouldn't hear and guess the truth. At the tower top, Briggina turned to their host and said, "My name is Briggina. What is your name, friend?"

He stuttered as he answered. "Quasimodo. Thank you for coming, but I'm afraid you'll have to leave. My master Frollo is on his way, and he wouldn't be very happy to find you up here. You can come back later, though."

That day was a day of beginnings. It was the beginning of Briggina's true freedom. Every day her carriage ride was a little shorter, as she grew accustomed to walking the long distance. She swore the driver and footmen to secrecy, because she didn't want her father finding out about her forays into the city. Soon, she was walking the whole way, with her trusted guide steering her this way and that. She asked innumerable questions and began to learn about life outside the palace. The people also grew to know her, not as the blind and somewhat mysterious princess, but as a friend. To keep them from guessing the truth, so that they would continue to treat her as one of them Briggina created the peasant woman Brigit, who lived and worked at the palace. It worked swimmingly, and she enjoyed making up events in "Brigit's" past.

It was the beginning of her interest in the gypsy Esmeralda. Every time she came across the girl, she would stop and listen, and try to talk to her afterwards. But Esmeralda always whisked herself away, like a dryad from the Greek myths. Still, Briggina learned many songs from the dancer, and sang them all the time, inside the castle and out.

But most of all, it was the beginning of her friendship with Quasimodo. Every day she would go up to his tower. He would tell her whose feast day it was, what he was carving, and she would share with him the palace news and her adventures on the way to his tower. Through her, he began to see the city he had looked down on all his life, and he in turn offered her a place where she could escape the politics and worldly concerns of royal responsibility. Before a month had gone by, they were fast friends. Their days were filled with learning about each other's worlds. After learning a dance from her tutor, she rushed to the tower to teach it to Quasimodo, and they would waltz to the music of the ringing bells. When Christmas came around, they snuck into the main chapel, just to listen to the beautiful music of the Midnight mass. Many months passed in this way, and they were the happiest of Briggina's life.

But this year also held the question of Briggina's future. Approaching the age most agreeable for marriage, it was imperative that she put forth effort to find a suitable husband. The king, though pleased at his daughter's delight in the great cathedral, was desperate to find a suitor for her, and confused by Briggina's lack of interest in the subject. All her other sisters were comfortably married or engaged. His son Peter could take the throne and rule well. Briggina was the only one without a certain future. And yet, she didn't seem to worry about it at all. She went to the church every morning, and didn't return until much later. Finally, he called her to one of the many salons to explain the problem to her.

"Daughter, are you aware that, without a husband, you have no future? Why don't you take any interest in pursuing suitors? Just the other day there was a duke from England who wanted to meet you, but you had already left."

Briggina remained calm. She had given the problem a great deal of thought, despite her outward show of nonchalance. "You speak as if my only future is as a wife. Why shouldn't I live always as a princess, sheltered by my father and brother? Others have done it before me, and it would be quite understandable, since securing a husband who would marry me despite my disability is quite improbable."

This idea had not occurred to the king. It was true, there were other princesses throughout history who hadn't married, and she could live quite comfortably in the palace. Surely, Peter wouldn't object to caring for his sister after he himself was gone. But the king wished for Briggina to choose this path because she wanted to, and not as a last resort. "Darling, is this really what you want? Or is it just an alternative to marriage?"

So Briggina told him part her secret. "Father, I haven't ridden all the way to Notre Dame since my first trip there. For days now, I've been walking there with Kathryn. The people know me, not as a princess, but as one of them. The cathedral is like a second home to me. If I married, I wouldn't be allowed to roam the city. And what if I married a foreigner? I would never see Paris or Notre Dame again, and would probably not be able to visit you as much as I would like to. I would lose everything I have worked so hard for…Please don't make me marry."

At first, the king was outraged at the risk she had taken. He stormed out of the salon, but once his anger died down, he thought back on her proposed solution. In his heart, he knew he hadn't really wanted to marry her off. How could he ever give up such an intelligent, understanding child, even if she had wanted to go? Peter felt the same way, he knew. He had never seen a stronger bond than that between his eldest and youngest, and when the king discussed the matter with him, this proved true. Peter felt the same way about Briggina, and would have been devastated if she had been married against her will. He could now be certain of her future as well as those of his other children.

But there was one more reason that Briggina didn't wish to marry, and it was one she could not tell her father. What girl can marry any man knowing that she can never give him her heart, because it belongs to another?

Quasimodo had let her ring the bells. He had put his huge hands over hers, and helped her pull the rope and make the bells sing. He had shown her his most recent carving, a figurine of herself, veil and all. She had seen herself through Quasimodo's eyes, and loved what she had beheld. She could never leave him after that day. His gentle strength and child-like innocence had nursed a tender affection in her that had blossomed into a love so deep, it rivaled the ocean.


	4. Chapter 4

It was January. The weather was cold and crisp, making it cozy, warm, and inviting indoors. And no place was cozier than the tower room where Briggina and Quasimodo sat, discussing the Feast of Fools that would be taking place later in the week. "Quasi, why don't you come to the festival with me? Imagine the fun we could have, with all the jugglers, and music, and dancing." Quasimodo was tempted, but responded glumly. "I can't. Frollo would be furious with me."

This puzzled Briggina. She knew very little about Frollo, except that he didn't like gypsies, took care of Quasimodo, and was very strict about what you should do in a church. "Why wouldn't he let you? Is he afraid you'll pick up some bad habits or something?"

"No it's just that… someone like me doesn't belong there."

_There it is again, _thought Briggina. _He always uses that tone when he talks about outside. _Well, if she couldn't persuade him, then she would have to go with just Kathryn.

When the day of the feast finally arrived, Briggina was so excited she bordered on frantic. "You must describe everything you can, Kathryn. I'm dying to know all about it!"

Kathryn smiled at her lady's curiosity. "I'll do my best, but it would take several days to describe what happens in a minute at the fair. There's usually dancers, acrobats, music, and of course the coronation of the King of Fools."

"The King of Fools?" Briggina was aghast. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Are they mocking my father?"

"No, no. It's when they pick the person with the ugliest face, and crown him the king of the feast. Usually people get quite a few laughs out of looking at all the distorted faces, but the one they pick is sure to suffer before the day is out. I never stay long enough to see it. It's so cruel."

The two of them watched, Briggina through Kathryn's eyes, as the parade passed by and Esmeralda danced and poked fun at Frollo. Then, when the crowd was roaring with laughter, the crowning of the King of Fools began.

Kathryn gasped. "Mistress, Quasimodo's up there with the rest of them! He's going to be chosen!"

Briggina immediately remembered Kathryn's description of the event, and, though confused why he even had a chance of being chosen, tried desperately to reach the stage to warn him, but the crowd was too thick. She listened in horror, as Quasimodo was crowned, knowing what was to come. It all started out fine and dandy, with singing and parading. Kathryn talked as fast as she could, trying to give Briggina an idea of what was happening. They loaded Quasimodo onto a big throne, and walked him all around the square. They unloaded him onto the main stage in the middle of the square.

Then, Briggina heard someone nearby say "Think he's ugly now? Watch this." A splat echoed through the square, as something hit Quasimodo. More splats followed, as people threw rotten tomatoes and other refuse at Quasimodo. Kathryn was horrified. "This was what I was telling you about, mistress. We have to stop them." Snap! "What was that?" Briggina said, fearful of this new cruelty. Kathryn gasped "Someone just threw a rope around Quasimodo's neck!"

Kathryn couldn't believe this!" They're treating him like an animal! Like a target! This is the worst Feast I've ever seen!" Briggina started pushing her way through the crowd. "We've got to stop them. We've got to get him down."

Rope after rope flew at Quasimodo, tying him down. Someone began to spin the stage, and people tried their aim with mud, rotten vegetables, and anything else they could find. yanking at the ropes, he scanned the crowd, trying to find someone who would help. Wait! Frollo was still sitting in his booth. "Master, please! Help me!" But his protector turned away. He continued to spin.

Then, all the sudden, the torment stopped. Esmeralda was bending down in front of him, until she could look into his eyes. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "This wasn't supposed to happen." Despite Frollo's protests, she cut the ropes holding Quasimodo to the stage. She turned to the enraged priest, and shouted, "You mistreat everyone, both my people and your own. When will you stop this cruelty?" Frollo was obviously not pleased with this outburst. He turned to the captain of the guard, standing nearby. "Seize her!"

Quasimodo watched as she used smoke and magic tricks to evade the guards, and then disappeared. After seeing that his rescuer was alright, he retreated back into the cathedral.

Briggina and Kathryn followed as best they could. As soon as Quasimodo saw them, he turned and growled. "Why? Why did you lie to me? You told me that the festival was fun. All the stories you told me about the people outside, they were all lies."

Anger at his accusations rose in her until she was shouting. "I wasn't lying! Everything I told you was the truth. What reason did they have to treat you differently? What have you been keeping from me?"

Quasimodo looked at her with a gaze full of astonishment. "What are you, blind?"

"Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything!" He couldn't stand this. He ran into his tower, leaving Briggina to wonder.

What had he been going on about? What did blindness have to do with what had happened outside? Wait. What had Kathryn said about the King of Fools? That he was the ugliest man they could find? Horror began to replace her frustration as she realized the reason Quasimodo had been locked away all his life, why he was so afraid of other people.

Kathryn saw the horror on her mistress's face and thought it was because of the deception Kathryn had used on the poor man. She approached and said. "Princess, I'm sorry. I've kept your blindness a secret from everyone, especially from Quasimodo. I was under orders from your father to conceal it as best I could. Please don't be angry with me."

But Briggina was. She couldn't believe this! Her father still didn't trust her enough to let her make that decision?! She stormed off, furious for the first time in her life.


	5. Chapter 5

Briggina, angry as she was, didn't try to sense her surroundings and so rammed her foot against something. She winced from the pain and felt out the thing she'd crashed against with her hands. It was one of the pews, probably somewhere near the back. She sat down to brood over what she'd learned.

Quasimodo was the ugliest man in Paris. No one knew she was blind. Her father was still treating her like a child, her first love now hated her, and she had no idea which side Kathryn was on. Those were the facts of the situation.

_Quasi's probably just as angry at me as I am at him. But we shouldn't be! I didn't… He never… Dah! _She clenched her fists in her now-messy hair. _Okay, we were both being idiots._ _All of this was just a big misunderstanding. We should be able to patch it up, right? _She asked to no one in particular.

"I don't know if you can hear me, or if your even there." A voice, tender and beautiful, drifted through the church. The voice was oddly familiar to Briggina. It sounded like the gypsy Esmeralda. Why would she be in the cathedral? Gypsies hated being indoors.

The voice sang on. Briggina blended her voice with the dancer's. The two voices soared and filled the cathedral with beautiful music, and Briggina began following the sound. It wasn't long before she found the source. She heard the girl gasp a little when she caught sight of her.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to bother you." Briggina smiled. "You have a beautiful voice. I've heard you sing on the street, but never as beautiful as that. Why did you come in here?"

Esmeralda sighed. "I've humiliated one of the most powerful men in Paris. Now he's trapped me in this stone cage. With guards at every door, I'll be caught as soon as I step outside." It was not a topic the gypsy wished to dwell on, so she changed the subject. "Were you the one singing with me?"

Briggina's smile widened. "Yes. I love singing in harmony with my sisters, and that song was one I could relate to. I hope you don't mind." The two began talking, trading stories and songs.

After about half an hour of enjoyable conversation, Briggina broached the subject of what she had heard outside. "You seem to be a popular dancer at the festival. Have you been to many of them?" Esmeralda confirmed the fact, so Briggina continued. "Does that always happen to the King of Fools? Or was it just for Quasimodo?" Esmeralda replied that it was usually that way. Briggina's temper began to rise, but she was careful to keep her tone neutral. "Why did you bring him up there if you knew what would happen? It was his first time outside the cathedral since he was an infant, and now Quasimodo thinks that the whole world is like that."

"Well, I had no idea it would be as bad as it was. When I first saw him, I thought his face was a mask. I even tried to pull it off! I would apologize, but I don't know where to find him. Do you?" Briggina smiled, and led Esmeralda up the stairs to the bell tower. She knew the way by heart by this time. "Don't startle him, and be careful. He might not be so happy to see you after what happened."

_How could she have lied to me like that? I gave her my trust, and now I find out she's been lying to me the whole time. Why didn't she tell me she was blind? _"Hello" Who was that? It sounded like the gypsy girl, but why was she in here? He could see her now, coming up the last of the stairs with Briggina. _What does she want now? Did she bring this girl up here to scream at me? _

"Quasimodo, where are you? I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to apologize for what happened. If I'd known who you were, I never would have brought you up on the..." She stopped talking and stared. "You live here?"

Cautiously, he came out from where he had been hiding, and stammered, "Yes, but it's not just me. There's the gargoyles and the bells, too." _She's not screaming, or running away. She seems to like it up here. _He ran to show her his carvings, and the different bells. She seemed to enjoy everything he showed her. _And she can actually see it._

When he went to show her the view, she looked down in amazement. "This is so beautiful. I could stand up here and stare forever." Quasimodo's hopes soared. "You could, you know. You have sanctuary."

Esmeralda shook her head. "I couldn't stay here. I'm not some caged bird, and Frollo would find me sooner or later."

"But if you went back down there, we would never see each other again." Quasimodo said, disappointed.

"Why don't you come to see me? You did it this morning, you could do it again."

He shook his head emphatically. "Oh no! I'm not going back after what happened today! The only reason I did was because someone told me stories about the feast, but they were lying. Everyone is afraid of me, because I'm such a monster."

Esmeralda laughed. "Quasi, you're no monster. Monsters hurt others. You've never hurt anyone. And who told you that anyway?"

"Frollo told me. He was right about everything, that the world was cruel and wicked. He told me not to trust anyone except him, and he was right. I trusted someone, and she let me down."

_So Frollo told him. I should have known he would be the one poisoning the poor boy. _She turned to Quasimodo. "Frollo is wrong. I know some people who aren't all that bad. Come with me, and I'll show you."

Quasimodo shook his head again. He was staying up here, where it was safe. "I'm not going back." Then, an idea struck him. "I can get you down, though. If you hold on to me, I can climb down, and get you out of here."

It took some time, and a few slips, but the two of them did get down safely. Esmeralda's goat ran to greet them. "Here." Esmeralda handed him something. "If you ever need help, follow this map to the gypsy hideout. Thanks." Then she kissed him on the cheek, and both girl and goat disappeared into the night. Quasimodo climbed back up, his whole face blushing.


	6. Chapter 6

Briggina's anger at Quasimodo had cooled, just in time for her to fall into despair. She'd hoped to introduce the two of them and to explain the situation better. She hadn't counted on his shyness or Esmeralda's boldness. She and Quasimodo ran through the tower, leaving her alone. She listened to their conversations, the eagerness in his voice, his wish to please her. Esmeralda was entering his heart as easily as if it was wide open. _Thanks to me. _She'd opened his heart, and had planned to fill it with her love for him. But her blindness, her stupid blindness! It had gotten in the way of any hope she had. She stumbled back down the stairs.

Kathryn was waiting at the foot. She started to speak. "Your Ladyship, I…"

Briggina cut her off. "Get me a carriage. I want to go home." She didn't talk during the ride.

Kathryn sat in nervous silence. She could tell that her mistress was still upset about something, and just assumed that it was her deception. She didn't dare broach the subject until Her Ladyship did, so they rode in leaden silence.

When Briggina reached her tower room, she sent Kathryn away at the door. "I will send someone for you when I want you. She locked the door and collapsed, sobbing onto her bed. _What have I done? At this rate I'll be letting Esmeralda steal Quasimodo away from me. I never found out if he had feelings for me, and probably never will. I daren't ask him now, not when he's angry with me and on the verge of falling in love with someone else. But, there has to be some other way besides direct confrontation to find out. _She picked herself up off the bed and said to no one, "I am going to the tower alone, even if I have to swim. I'm going to find out if Quasimodo loves me, and I won't come back without an answer." Determined, she walked out of her bedroom and into the streets of Paris.

It took Briggina nearly two hours to reach the cathedral. She arrived wet and bedraggled, from her numerous falls into puddles and gutters. Her dress was torn in one place where a dog had tried to bite her. At that moment, she looked more like a beggar than a princess, which was exactly how she felt. In her mind, there was no one left but Quasimodo. Her sisters were gone, married to other titled men in foreign countries, and while she wrote to them every week, it was very seldom that she received anything in the way of a response. Father was off campaigning with Peter. With the warm love of her family so distant from her at this moment, Briggina would have clung to the tiniest shred of love like a lifeline. She climed the stairs with difficulty, hoping Quasimodo would throw her that rope.

As she was about to open the door leading to the tower, she heard Quasimodo's boyish voice. It's singing would fed her staved heart, had the lyrics spoken of her. His song was so similar to the one that she had sung to her sister upon hearing of her wedding, but where hers had given comfort, his brought only heartbreak. He sang of an angel, of heaven's light, but she knew he did not mean her. Heart ripped asunder, she ran down the stairs, tripped, and fell, knocking herself oblivious. Unconsciousness was bliss after what she had suffered in the last few hours.

That was where Kathryn found her early the next morning. She had spent the entire night out in the streets, looking for her friend. Now that she had found the princess, Kathryn realized just how worried she had been, and not just because of what the king would do to her if something had happened to Her Ladyship. She loved Briggina now, like a sister. But the princess, in the throes of her heartbreak, was too consumed by her sadness to notice. They walked back to the castle together, both crying, one with relief, and the other with despair.

Briggina was not the only one suffering torment that night. In the rectory, Frollo was fighting a different battle.

"Why can I not stop thinking about that gypsy? She is penetrating my soul, and turning my mind to sinful thoughts. Why can I not contain my desire for her? What curse has she laid upon my unblemished soul?" He fell to his knees, crying out, "Ave Maria, release me from this curse she hath laid upon me. Remove this desire or let it be fulfilled! This burning desire will not let me sleep, will not let me rest. Either give me the means to obliterate this desire, or give me the means to satisfy it! I must find that gypsy girl!"


	7. Chapter 7

It took Briggina a week to recover from her ordeal. Her bruises healed quickly, but her spirit was broken. When Kathryn finally persuaded the princess to venture outside the palace walls again in hopes of rekindling her love for the people, both were shocked by what they saw. It was market day, yet there was no market. Shops were closed, doors locked, and those who were outside hurried to finish their business as quickly as possible. The baker's wife, one of Briggina's friends, came out of her house to talk with the two.

"What are you two doing out here? Frollo has ordered the streets cleared! Go home, before one of the soldiers sees you." Briggina began to stir from her melancholy. "What? Why?"

The woman whispered, "That gypsy, Esmeralda, escaped from the cathedral, and Frollo's looking for her. Gypsies are arrested and interrogated, and anyone who is friendly with such people are treated the same. The jails and prisons are busting at the seams with innocent people. Hurry home, before Frollo decides to throw you in there as well." Indeed, the two girls did hurry home, so they could prepare a counterattack.

As they raced back to the palace, Kathryn began to feel a little guilty. She should feel horrible about what was happening, but she couldn't help feeling a little happy. The fire was back in Her Ladyship's eyes.

First, Briggina had Kathryn write to her father. The King had taught the servant girl how many years earlier, so she could be his daughter's pen as well as her eyes. Briggina was confident this letter would receive an answer. _He may be on a campaign, but he can't ignore what's going on here if he is alerted to it. He'll have to come home. _

Dear Father,

I hope the campaign is going well, and that both you and my brother are in good health. Here in Paris, things are in a state of disaster. The dishonorable judge Claude Frollo was the subject of an innocent prank at a peasant festival, a humiliation caused by someone of low birth. Now he searches for her to exact revenge, even though the girl is of far lesser rank than his and shouldn't even merit his attention. This was not a crime worth investigating. In his frenzy to find her to exact his revenge, he locks innocents away for offering Christian hospitality to those who ask for it, if that person if of the same station as the girl he is going insane trying to find. He has set fire to our beautiful Paris, in an effort to force the girl out of her hiding place. Frollo has given no reasons for his actions. Please return home and put a stop to this madness, before he resorts to more drastic measures. I fear executions will be next.

Godspeed your return,

Briggina

The letter was the part of her plan most likely to work, but also the slowest. Briggina knew that even if she sent the fastest messenger, it would take at least four days for the letter to reach her father, and even longer for him to return, with all his knights and retinue in tow. And Frollo would be much faster. He might have already made the connection between Esmeralda's escape and Quasimodo. She waited in nervous anxiety for Frollo to make his move.

But she did not wait idly. After having the girl write a few more letters, she assigned Kathryn to tail Quasimodo. When she reported that he had captured in the gypsy hideout, along with Esmeralda and most of the gypsy population, they both knew it was time to set their plan in motion.

"You saw where they were keeping her, right?" Briggina asked her companion. Kathryn nodded. "A cart with bars, but the guard is a young man. Just wear your crown and getting in won't be a problem." They walked in silence to the prison lot where Frollo was keeping his special prisoner. Briggina walked determinedly, busily composing the excuse she would give the guard in order to gain access to the key to Esmeralda's cell, in case showing off her blue blood wasn't enough. Kathryn was crying.

"Halt" Commanded the guard. Briggina knew this man. She had heard him in the square many times, and had stopped to chat with him. But today, she wouldn't be the friendly peasant woman. Today she was a princess. She lowered her hood that the guard might see her crown, and spoke with a regal tone. "I wish to see the prisoner Esmeralda and hear her final confession. Perhaps I can turn her from her evil ways. I wish for the key to her cell." Of course, the man couldn't possibly disobey royalty, so he handed the key over and ushered the princess into the cell.

Briggina could feel the heat of the dancer's rage from the moment she entered the cart. She snarled "Here to poke fun at me again? Haven't you had your fill for one day?"

Briggina chuckled. Esmeralda must have her back to her. "I'm only here to help, if you'll let me."

She heard Esmeralda turn around, and say, in a tone of astonishment "You were in the cathedral. You sang with me, but how could you be her, you're no peasant."

Briggina prepared to reveal herself. "I am Briggina, blind princess of France, and I want to help. Here." She thrust two jars, labeled "skin" and "hair", and three letters toward the dancer. "Can you read?"

She nodded, then, realizing Briggina wouldn't have seen, said, "I'm one of the few gypsies who can. Why?"

"One of the letters is for you, explaining, but read it later. We don't have much time. You and I are going to switch places. I'm told we look pretty similar in all other respects, so we only need to dye our hair and skin. The rest should be easy. When you're done, take off your dress and hand it to me. I'll do the same, but I might need a little help getting yours on, since I can't see what I'm doing."

The transformation was swift. Soon, Esmeralda was standing in silk and jewels with flaxen hair and a rosy face, while a dark haired, dark skinned Briggina was sitting in a white prison dress.

Esmeralda was more confused than she'd ever been in her life. "Why are you doing this?"

"Go. Now, before the guard catches on." Then Kathryn pulled Esmeralda out of the cart, locked the door behind her, and ran off with Esmeralda into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

When they were a safe distance from the prison, Esmeralda forced the other girl to come to a halt and was about to demand an explanation when the girl turned on her. "We have to keep going. I have to get you inside the palace, or my lady's sacrifice will be for naught. We have to go on." The maid tugged at the gypsy's hand and started her running again. Kathryn refused to utter a word until they were safely within the tower room.

Esmeralda's fury had been growing in proportion to the distance they had run. She would not be played with by royals, or do anything against her will. This girl had dragged her through alleys, into the palace, and hadn't given her a word of explanation. As soon as the door closed, Esmeralda grabbed the maid's collar, pinned her against a wall, and shouted in her face. "Why did she save me? Answer me! What is going on!?"

Kathryn finally let out all the sorrow she had been carrying inside her, ever since Briggina made her write those three letters. "Just read your letter. I can't bear to talk about it." Esmeralda started. She had completely forgotten about the letter! She tore open the envelope, shook out the letter, and began to read.

Dear Esmeralda,

About a year ago, I ventured out of the castle to see the cathedral and met Quasimodo. We spent many afternoons together and by the time the Feast of Fools came around, I was deeply in love with him. He was the only person I'd ever met who did not care if I was blind. I thought that, when I told him I loved him, he would confess that he did to. But the day I met you and introduced you to Quasimodo, all my hopes were crushed. He had never known that I was blind and was furious when he found out because he'd thought I was deceiving him intentionally. I wasn't of course, but that didn't change the fact that he was still angry with me. Then you came along and took my place as his friend and companion. All I want, all I have ever wanted, was to know that Quasimodo was happy, and he will be if he's with you. That's why I switched places with you. I have nothing left. Paris, my beloved city, is burning. My family doesn't even remember me. Quasimodo doesn't like or trust me anymore. My life is chaff, and soon will burn, while yours is Quasimodo's prized pearl. Love him, for my sake.

Princess Briggina

Esmeralda joined Kathryn in her weeping. _ How could one girl have her hopes dashed like that and still have the strength to sacrifice herself? She's the pearl, not me. _Esmeralda looked at the other letters, and saw that one of them was for Quasimodo. "What's your name?" She asked the sobbing girl next to her.

She lifted her tear-stained face and mumbled "Kathryn".

Esmeralda spoke gently to the girl. "When can I go to the cathedral, to give Quasimodo his letter? He should know what she's done for him."

Kathryn wiped her eyes on her skirt, and spoke. "You can't leave until my lady is being executed. Then, there's no chance of your being recognized. Once she's out in front of everyone, you can go into the cathedral to deliver the letter."

Esmeralda brandished the other one, which was addressed to the royal family. "And when should I deliver this one?"

Kathryn smiled, which looked odd with her red eyes. "You can drop it off in the main salon whenever you want. I'll take you there now, if you like." They did, and then went back to the tower and waited for the time when they could go and tell Quasimodo of his greatest love.


	9. Chapter 9

Briggina sat in her cage that night, and cried. She cried for her family, who would never know what had driven her to this. The letter she'd written to them had been gentle, only saying how much she had loved each of them. She never mentioned how alone they had made her feel.

She cried for all her friends in the city, who had been hurt by Frollo in his desperate search for Esmeralda. She cried for Frollo himself, for she knew that heaven would not be his destination. He had condemned himself through his actions.

She cried for Kathryn. All that time, Kathryn had stood by her, taken care of her, and she had never noticed. Now, Briggina would never been able to thank her. She would never be able to tell her family how much she loved them in person, or tell Paris who she really was. She would never see any of the ones she loved again. She wept and wept.

Briggina woke to a jolt, and heard horses. "Get along there. We have to get this gypsy to the pyre before noon." Obviously, she was in some sort of cart, riding toward the place where they would burn her as a witch.

It was a long ride from the prison to the pyre, filled with potholes and loose cobles. When they finally reached the chosen execution ground, Briggina was black and blue all over underneath her prison robe. She heard the wood creak as the wagon driver got off the cart, and the thud as his feet hit the cobblestone street. Then a creak of hinges as he opened the door to her cell, and a rope around her wrists. He snarled at her. "Don't get any ideas about escape, you hear? Even if you could get through your bonds, there's nowhere to run. Come on now. Let's get this over with."

She stumbled up the unfamiliar stairs, and then was roughly turned around. Her hands were retied behind her back, and around what she guessed was a pole. Then the clattering started. Briggina listened as bundle after bundle of firewood was thrown around her feet, clattering as it hit the platform where she stood. Through that awful sound, she heard yells and taunts.

"Dance for us now."

"You'll pay the price, gypsy!"

"Where's your master now?"

It sounded like the crowd of onlookers was already gathering. She wondered who else was out there, waiting to watch her burn.

There was a squeak of carriage wheels, the creak of footsteps up the stairs, then Frollo's voice, reading the charges. "The gypsy Esmeralda has been found guilty of the crime of witchcraft. The sentence, death."

She heard a pop as the torch that was to light her pyre was brought closer. Then, Frollo began to whisper in her ear. "I can say that you have recanted, but only if you will give yourself into my mercies. Choose me, or the fire." She spat in his face.

She felt the heat of the torch recede, as Frollo turned to the crowd to announce her decision. Then came a whoosh as he threw the torch onto the wood. The wood must have been very dry to catch fire so quickly. She could feel the heat and smell the smoke. Then, to the great surprise of Frollo, the guards, and the onlookers, Briggina began to sing.

The king and his son were riding as fast as they could back to the palace. They had been halfway home already when Briggina's messenger had intercepted them. Once they had read her letter, they had left their retinue of knights and attendants far behind, only stopping for water and fresh horses. Still, it had taken them two days to return home, and for them, it was two days too long. Both were worried not only for Paris, but for Briggina. What if she had been in Paris when the fire started? What if she'd been hurt? These harried thoughts were halted by the sound of Briggina's voice singing, but they couldn't make out the words. They followed her song, and as the words became clear, confusion flooded their minds. They pressured the horses to go faster so they could behold the reason for this morbid melody.

When Kathryn and Esmeralda heard Frollo read the charges, they ran from the nearest alley, intending to run straight through the cathedral's doors and up to the tower. But when they came in view of the execution platform, both girls stopped and stared. Before this instant, neither of them had clearly seen Briggina in her disguise.

She was the spitting image of Esmeralda, from her blackened hair to her defiant stare. They watched as she spat in Frollo's face, and as her pyre was lit. Then, they remembered their purpose, and ran through the cathedral, up the stairs, and almost got tangled in the chains that bound Quasimodo.

There he was, chained to the many columns of the bridge that ran between the two towers. He looked so downcast. "Quasimodo? Are you alright?"

He turned and glared at her. "No, I'm not alright. Esmeralda is going to die, and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't break the chains. I tried. And why are you here, anyway?"

Esmeralda sighed and held out the letter. "I just wanted to give you this. Can you read?"

He resumed his sullen gazing. "No."

Esmeralda had thought so. "Then I'll read it to you."

There was only one word on the parchment. It said "listen".

They looked at each other, Esmeralda in puzzlement, Quasimodo in irritation. "What? Listen to what?" Then they heard a single voice rising from the scene below.

All my life,

I've been a caged dove.

I met you,

And began to love.

But your heart

Will never be mine.

Heaven's light

On me will not shine.

She is there,

Standing at your side.

I now pay

The price of her pride.

It is paid

In this fire below.

Briggina

Strives her love to show.

"I love you!" Briggina, his true love, shouted and collapsed into a fit of coughing from the smoke.

Esmeralda started to explain. "Briggina switched places with me. We dyed our hair and skin so we looked like each other."

Quasimodo was reeling at this confession. Someone had actually loved him, when he had thought he was unlovable. Why hadn't he noticed? "Why didn't she ever tell me this?"

Kathryn stepped forward. "She wanted to, but she was too afraid that you wouldn't like her if you knew. But then you were angry about her blindness, you fell in love with Esmeralda, and there was no time to tell you. But she does love you, more than she has ever loved anyone else." That one sentence seemed to fill him until he began to tear off his chains as if they were little more than cobwebs. There was no way he was leaving her there to burn.

The king and Peter raced around the corner and entered the main square just in time to catch the last two lines of the song. It was coming from the girl on the executioner's platform. Peter aghast, cried out to his father. "Father, that's Briggina! I'm sure of it."

The king rode right up to Frollo, who still stood on the platform, and bellowed in his face. "What is the meaning of this? I rush back to this city to find it burned, its inhabitants imprisoned, and my daughter being executed. Get her down at once!"

Peter plucked at the king's arm. "That won't be necessary, Father." He turned to look at where his daughter stood, to find a very ugly man ripping away his daughters bonds and swinging her up and into the cathedral.

Peter sighed. "She'll be safe there, Father. No one would invade the sanctuary of the church. Frollo!" The last part was addressed to the man, and halted him in his tracks.

The king raised a finger and pointed it at him. "Guards, arrest this man for treason against the royal family, the destruction of Paris, the imprisonment of innocents, and the attempted murder of the princess." Frollo was seized and thrust into the cart that had, only minutes before, caged Frollo's prize bird. Then, the two royals raced up the stairs to the balcony where the rescue party had landed.

When Quasimodo and Briggina had reached the balcony between the two towers, Esmeralda and Kathryn rushed over. Esmeralda put her ear to the princess's mouth. Quasimodo nervously inquired, "Is she alright? Is she hurt?"

Esmeralda answered without looking up. "She's not breathing." She pressed her fingers to Briggina's neck, trying to find a pulse. There! It was faint, but it was definitely there! She leaned over her mouth again, but still, there was no sound of breathing. Gently, she placed her own mouth over the princess's, and breathed out. She removed her mouth and said "Kathryn, get over here. Push on her chest. We have to get the smoke out of her lungs, or she'll suffocate."

They had repeated the cycle several time when they heard a man's shout. "Out of the way!" Two richly dressed men, one obviously the senior, rushed to Briggina's side.

The younger turned to Kathryn. "Is she alive?"

Kathryn nodded, and said, "But she's not breathing. The smoke was too much for her."

The King turned to his son, with Briggina in his arms. "Get a physician, quickly! I'll meet you at the palace."

Esmeralda barred his way. "Sir, if you move her, she'll only get worse! A doctor can come up here to tend her."

A thin wavering voice pierced their argument. "It's alright. I'd like to go home." All five of them looked down, to see Briggina's thin, darkened face, smiling faintly. Then, exhausted by the effort, she fell back into unconsciousness.

**Would you guys like a tragic ending or a happy one?**


	10. Chapter 10

Peter galloped back to the palace and summoned the royal physician and the smoothest carriage they owned. Briggina rode back to the palace with Kathryn, under the watchful eye of the doctor. Quasimodo and Esmeralda followed, but were not let inside the palace grounds. They waited outside the gates, hoping that she would be alright.

The king paced outside the examination room for the entire hour Briggina was undergoing examination. The doctor emerged and turned to the irate king. The big man trembled as he asked, "How is she?"

The doctor's face was grave. "Not good, I'm afraid. The sample I took from the inside of her throat was fifty percent fine ashes. If that great a quantity managed to get into her lungs, I'm afraid that…"

"That what? Tell me man!"

"I'm afraid she won't live to see the sunrise."

His shoulders slumped. "Can I go in to see her now?"

"I'm afraid not. She's still not conscious. I will call you when she wakes."

The king retreated to the salon where Peter had been waiting for the news and slumped into the couch cushions. Peter's foreboding grew. What was wrong with his sister? "Father, how is she?" The king would not answer. When a servant arrived to tell them that Briggina was awake, the king did not get up to see her. He was not going to stand there and watch as she slipped away, just like her mother.

Peter did get up, and practically ran to the chambers where his sister was now resting. When he saw her, he was a little surprised. The dyes she'd used earlier were beginning to wear off. Now there were brown streaks in her fur and her face was covered in dark patches. She looked rather funny, especially sitting in that huge, luxurious bed wearing nothing but a white prison uniform. She hadn't been awake long enough to change into anything else before he'd come running.

He walked up to her bedside and asked "So how are you feeling?" She tried to answer but erupted into a coughing fit. He put his hand behind her back and helped to lift her into an upright position. "Easy, easy."

Once the coughing died down a little, she spoke. Her voice was so harsh, like sandpaper. "I'm glad you came back. I was afraid I would never…" The coughing started again, shaking her like a leaf. Peter pulled her in tight and held her steady as she hacked. After five minutes, she tried talking again. "Where's Quasimodo?"

Peter had never heard of him before. "Who?"

"He lives in the tower. Can I see him?"

She must be talking about that boy, the one who rescued her. "I'll try to get him here for you." He walked out of the room and spotted one of the guards walking down the corridor. "You!" The guard whipped around and stood at attention. "Get me the man from the cathedral, the one who saved my sister. I believe he's waiting outside the palace."

"Yes sir!" The guard gave a salute and ran off to fetch him.

When the guard reached the gate, Quasimodo practically tackled him in his rush to get news. "How is she? Is she going to be alright? Can I see her?"

The guard pried the distress man off of him and said. "You have been invited to her chambers. Please follow me." Then he turned and went back the way he had come.

Quasimodo would have loved the palace, had he not been so focused on Briggina. It was full of graceful arches and classic colors like pink and indigo. There was the occasion portrait or landscape scene framed along the walls, and sometimes murals were painted in the plaster. The floors were mostly hardwood, but in some areas they used tile. One of the courtyards they ran through even had a mosaic. But it flashed past the man as he raced to Briggina.

She was sitting up now, propped up by numerous pillows. Coughing fits shook her every few minutes, and her brother didn't let go of her until the bigger man crashed through the doorway and halted as he saw her.

Peter was caught off-guard by the man's face, but not the disfigured flesh. He'd seen that already. It was just… well he'd never seen anyone look so desparate. Briggina's coughing had subsided for the moment, so Peter let go of her and faced the other man. "Thank you for coming. My sister asked for you. I'll leave you too alone."

Briggina tried to get up. "No, don't leave. I don't want.." The words were cut off by more coughing. Peter rushed back to hold her again, but Quasimodo was closer. The big man put his muscular arms around her. The coughing lasted for a full ten minutes, but when it stopped Quasimodo didn't let go. Instead, he took one of her hands and placed it on his face.

He held the hand at the wrist, guiding it over his face, the lump over his eye, his upturned nose. Then he moved it upward, letting her touch his hump. He had closed his eyes so she wouldn't accidentally poke them. When he dropped her hand and opened his eyes, he searched her face.

She took a deep breath and said "I'm glad you're not handsome. It means all your goodness is inside you." Then she gently removed his arms and said to her brother "I'm a little tired now. I'd like to be left alone." She listened as their footsteps retreated. When she thought they were at the door, she said. "Tell Father that I love him. I love you all." Then they walked out and shut the door behind them. An hour later, she breathed her last.

On the first year anniversary of her death, Peter went to his sister's grave. He was the acting king now. Father had never recovered from her death, and had died a short three months after her. _I suppose he was already weakened from losing Mother._ Peter had not succumbed to grief. He knew what his sister would have wanted, for him to make France a place where people would treat a stranger kindly, where Gypsies could roam and live without fear. He had spent the last year building that world, starting with Frollo's public execution.

He was getting close now. He could see the family tomb in the distance. He got off his horse and unlocked the gate. He went in and was about to place his bouquet of orchids and lilies in the hands of the carved effigy that made the top of her coffin when he noticed that something was already there.

It was a tiny carving. As he looked closer, Peter noticed that the carving was of a woman, veiled, but very beautiful. He sighed. "You are missed more than you know, sister." And he could have sworn that the face smiled.


End file.
